Dragon Age: Revelation
by AaronTheRedRider22
Summary: A Great Champion faces certain death but destiny has given him a second chance at life, but neither as a man or Champion but as a Warden. The mage has been given a new calling and now he must follow that call wherever it may go. Can the condemned change a nation. Can the innocent chose life over death. Can a Warden chose between love and duty. Will a man choose honor or revenge?
1. Prolouge

Author's Notes: Hi everyone and welcome to Dragon Age: Revelations. I would like to thank you for choosing to read my story today and if you are just glancing to see what is what, I would ask that you give my story a chance.

I have always loved medieval fiction and all forms mythology. It has become a great passion in my life and I wish to expand on that passion by writing a series of books. Now I know may not be the best place to start but to me it's a great way to practice.

I love to receive revives on many ways to improve my stories, my writing style, my over all directions towards writing, and corrections. Once again thank you for reading my fanfic and I hope you enjoy it. I hope to hear both constructive and helpful advice from everyone on .

Have a great day and enjoy

**Chapter 1 – Prolouge**

* * *

The darkness surrounded her, the beautiful maiden was trapped in a world of darkness and like the princess of old she awaited her rescuer. A chuckle filled the small room as the maiden laughed at her jap of a rescuer or a knight coming to her rescue.

Many feared the darkness, men and women alike, because it was a mystery. It was an overwhelming presence that brought both fear and chaos in a creature's mind. Men would go mad in such a place but the maiden remained strong as she remained faithful and patient.

She carefully knelt in a pile of straw that was emanating a foul smell and was crisp to the touch.

Her hands folded together and her voice began to sing a beautiful verse that came from an ancient text.

"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter," Her singing was enchanting and mysterious.

"Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions who seek justice" her words echoed off the walls.

"Blessed are the righteous, a light that lingers in the shadows beyond " her voice softens as she tilted her head forward and kissed the knuckles of her thumbs.

"In their blood the Maker's will is written" for a moment the maiden had stopped singing and raised her head, with her eyes closed, and began to listen.

At first it was a soft *THUMP* and then a low *CREAK*

'There must be a strong wind' the maiden thought to herself as she listened to the door creak, but again she heard a *THUMP* and a low*CREAK*

'What is that sound?' she asked herself as she opened her eyes and gazed at her prison door. A light was shining under the door and a shadow was dancing in that light. A smile crept across the maiden's lips as she watched the source of the sound pace in front of her prison.

The man outside the maiden's cell was slow with very slow with his walking but his shoes created so much sound as they scuffle back and forth across the stone. The *THUMP* was the man's feet pounding against the ground and the *CREAK* was the man's metal shoes grinding against stone.

Could this man be wearing heavy armor? The maiden was curious as to whether this man, or woman, was a Templar or perhaps it was a loyal knight in-service to a great lord. The sound wasn't enough to answer her questions.

However, the maiden's ears revealed that the creature outside was a man who was breathing very heavily, the weight of the armor might be too great for him to bear.

A few more minutes passed and the maiden was able to make out another familiar sound. Keys were chiming against the man's hip. It could have been a sword or dagger but the maiden was sure those were keys singing to her.

These were all very good sounds to hear.

The guard is tired and very distracted.

The keys are close and are within reaching distance.

Escape was very close and it could be taken but the iron door to her cell was preventing her escape.

If there were bars the maiden could have found a way to steal the keys and kill the guard, but her prison had no bars or windows to speak.

This would not stop her. The maiden would simply need to find another way to escape.

The infamous Bard's of Orlais could not be imprisoned so easily, they always found a way to play _the game. _

However, new games required new rules and new skills and the only skill the bard had left were her prayers and her patience.

Sooner or later someone would open the door to her cell and when that happened that's when she would strike.

Time continued to move forward and the maiden's patience had paid off in full when she heard loud pounding footsteps bounces off the walls outside of her cell.

Like the desert rabbits of Antiva the bard sprung to her feet and carefully ventured to a dark corner in her cell, while the muffled sounds grew louder until they were standing right outside her door.

She had no idea how many were out there or what she may be facing. Doubt began to settle in when she began to rethink her plan of escape.

If she acted too soon she would just get herself killed.

However, if she acted to slow she would simply kill herself.

This was a very dangerous game and it was a game the bard knew too well.

Caution was friend of man and tool for warriors. The bard quickly rethought her plan and decided the best course of action was to remain the helpless prisoner, but only until she found her opening.

She once again knelt in the straw and remaining ever silent.

The door to the cell was unlocked and was pushed open. A flickering light filled the maiden's cell and the bard could only watch as five men enter the room, each holding a torch in one hand and a spear in the other.

Each was wearing heavy plated armor and each man matched the other in, size, stench, and color. The suits of armor were as black coal but each shined as if they were forged from polished opal. The bard took note of the large white suns engraved on the breast plates and the silver eyes engraved above the white sun. The bard could feel the glares of each man as they looked down upon her, through their metal visors.

The bard quickly ignored the men as she watched a tall, short haired, woman steps into her cell. The torch light offered the bard a great deal of sight and it showed her that the tall woman was very beautiful; her face was smooth and slightly pale.

'A child who loves to wear her helmet' the bard told herself as she looked deep into the woman's eyes, a pair of hazelnut gems, that were as hard as iron.

No emotion appeared in her eyes or on her lovely face.

A word was spoken and the bard found herself being dragged to her feet by two of the armed guards and then the bard was forced to stand before the beautiful woman with short charcoal hair.

"Speak your name" her voice revealed that she was Nevarran and that she was more than just a pretty face, this woman was a battle harden warrior.

'My name?' the bard was confused.

Did they not know who she was?

"I would know your name first and the reason for my imprisonment" the bard's voice lashed out like a whip but she remained motionless and her face betrayed no emotion.

"Speak your name" the Nevarran's tone grew stern and hard when she repeated herself.

For a brief moment the bard had thought to keep her mouth closed and wait for an answer but the touch of cold steel caught the bard off guard, she never saw the knife being drawn.

"I will not ask again. Speak your name, before you lose the ability to say it again" a smile appeared on the bard's face as a sense of joy washed over her.

"You already know who I am, sister" the bard suddenly felt the fool and slightly joyful.

Why did she not see it sooner, the symbol on engraved on the breastplate of each guard resembles the mark of the Chantry, the only notable difference was the giant silver eye.

"Are you Sister Lelieana of Ferelden's Chantry?" Her voice became softer but still retained its ferocity.

"Indeed I was" Lelieana could see her captor was becoming slightly annoyed. She was very greedy for answers and Lelieana could see that she was in no mood for jesting.

'Tread carefully, let's try and play their game for a turn' the red hair bard pulled herself free of the men holding her and brushed off the dust that had clung to her gown.

"Until I left the Chantry to pursue a trial of great importance" Lelieana watched the iron eye woman sheath her curved knife and place both of her hands behind her back.

'Such a good soldier' Lelieana told herself.

"Would that have been the trial of the Blight?" the sound of the Nevarran's voice had begun to annoy Lelieana along with her pointless quest for direct answers.

"Yes, I sadly left all my duties as a sister behind me to aid others during the Fifth Blight to save Ferelden from its dreadful ruler. That had happened precisely three years ago next month" Lelieana's answer got her a dirty look from her new friends.

"Excellent take her to the 'room' and await further orders" the Nevarran quickly turned on her heels and stormed out of the tiny cell and vanished from Lelieana's sight.

Once again Lelieana was impressed by the woman's grace. The singer had never seen anyone move so well in such thick armour, or in suck ugly boots.

"Get moving" Lelieana was suddenly shoved out of the door by two of her guards, and like well trained dogs, Lelieana was surrendered by the five men.

Each guard stood at a corner, surrounding the bard and didn't leave her a chance to look for an escape.

The walk was very long and seemed very tidies to Lelieana.

If anyone wanted to torture her for information or kill her they could have simply finished her off in the dark cell, but the bard began to count her lucky stars for how much they were worth.

This game was starting to become very dangerous.

Someone wanted to keep her alive. Someone wanted her secret's and Leliana knew far to many people who wanted to know what she knew.

Soon Lelieana was lead to another door, thicker and stronger than her cell door, and when it opened she felt her heart skip a beat.

It was another cell but this one had a single ray of light, shining from the ceiling, and it was shining down onto a chiseled stone chair stained with blood.

"Take your seat and wait" one of the guards had pushed Lelieana into the tiny little room and quickly slammed the door behind her.

The bard used her ears to see again and could hear the silent click on a series of locks snap and crack behind the door.

Lelieana could feel her heart beat within her chest.

All of these tiny rooms made Lelieana recall a very vivid memory and it was a very painful memory, that made her heart wrench and twist from fear.

"No" Leliana heard herself moan the word as she felt herself being drawn to the dark corners of the room. Lelieana could feel her heart beating hard and faster in her chest. Her breathing was getting very heavy and the bard could not bring herself to pray to her loving god.

Minutes had passed before Lelieana was able to regain her composure and walk about the room, studying every crack and stain that marked the rooms walls and floors.

It was a small room but it was not as small as her cell, it was larger enough to house any number of torture devices or people but to the bard delight neither device nor people were around. The room was empty of everything except for a solid stone chair.

The bard studied the chair for a moment and took note of the blood that had stained on the chair. '

Many men and women had been put in this chair' Lelieana thought to herself as she began to wonder how many had the privilege of sitting in that chair and how many had the privilege of leavening the room.

It had only been minutes before Lelieana heard footsteps coming from beyond the door.

She had to act fast.

Like the cats of Orleai, Lelieana vanished behind the stone chair and quickly faded into the darkness and in that darkness Lelieana waited, but something felt odd.

A door had suddenly opened up behind Lelieana.

A lifetime of training spurred Lelieana to fight but when she came face to face with the iron eye woman again the bard felt a sense of stillness wash over her and her instinct to kill.

The strange woman simply stood in the doorway, hands behind her back, bearing neither sword nor dagger, both remained sheathed and untouched. Leleiana would have asked why she came unarmed but the bard knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, again.

"Bards… you are all so predictable" the iron eye woman stepped into the dark room and shoved the door closed, and in the blink of an eye Leleiana heard a dozen locks snap and crack along the edge of the door.

"Take a seat sister Lelieana we have much to discuss" she used her right hand to gesture Lelieana into the stone seat, but the bard refused her captures offer and choose to remain standing.

"I can understand your mistrust sister. If I were in your shoes I would remain defiant until the bitter end, but I swear to the Maker above that I am not here to hurt you" Lelieana watched the woman gesture to the chair once more but again Lelieana remained standing.

"Who are you? I can see you are from the Chantry and you made it obvious that you want something from me" Lelieana knew this part of the game far too well; this is how most games end.

The game starts with a pawn.

The pawn leads you around and around until you are corned.

Once cornered you begin to panic and search for an opening.

You find that opening and once you exploit it you find yourself trapped by the queen.

This woman was the queen and she will do everything she can to win the game.

The woman lowered her hand, acting defeated, and then looked the bard dead in the eye.

"I am Cassandra Pentaghast a Seeker of the Chantry. I extend my apologies to you sister Lelieana it was never my intention to have you hurt or kidnapped" Lelieana watched Cassandra revile her left hand a noticed a very thick buck clutched in between her fingers.

"But, for the good of the realm it had to be done" Cassandra's voice still retained a lot of tension but Lelieana could hear the Nevarran buried beneath it.

"You call yourself a Seeker of the Chantry. Pray tell me, what are you seeking Lady Cassandra" Lelieana suddenly found herself taking a seat in the stone chair, sitting like any proper lady would, one leg folded over the other.

"I seek a champion among men, a nation's hero, and a personal friend of yours" only one name crossed Lelieana's mind when Cassandra finished speaking.

The man Cassandra spoke of was so much more than a champion or a hero, he was a legend, and this woman was not the only one seeking him.

"You speak of the Warden, the Hero of the Fereldin. May I ask why you seek this man?" Lelieana watched a cold, iron, look appear in Cassandra's eyes as she gazed back at Lelieana.

Cassandra turned her back on the red hair woman and opened the book in her left hand and began to read a page from the book's contents, or acted as if she were.

"You may not" her response was both blunt and very obvious.

"Then I refuse to speak of him any further" Lelieana returned Cassandra blunt question with one of her own.

"Why is that" ferocity and anger flared in Nevarran's voice as she tore herself away from the book and glared at Lelieana.

"Because you refuse to speak, an answer for an answer that is how the game is played" Lelieana slowly leaned backward until her back was pressing against the chair.

"So you think sister but this is not your precise Orlai" she clapped the back shut and approached the bard.

"The moment you brought here, into my room, the rules changed" a strange look appeared in Cassandra's eyes as she looked down upon Lelieana. The child of Orlai felt as if she were being looked down upon a noble from her home land, and Cassandra was wearing her mask very well.

"It was to my understanding Lelieana that you are looking for someone as well, an old mentor some would call her" Lelieana's skin prickled as Seeker continued to speak.

"As it so happens my Order has knowledge of that traitors where about's, but I may be willing to part with that information" Lelieana felt the urge to kill once again as she pictured her, but the urge to kill suddenly died.

'She is playing you' Leleiana told herself as she began to understand Cassandra a little bit better.

She was indeed a Seeker and she would do anything to find what she seeks, and the bard doubted Cassandra cared for the casualties.

"Marjolaine is not a common traitor; she stole and sold military secrets to Orlais enemies. I can't imagine the Empress would be too pleased to find her dead at the hands of a sister" Lelieana said as she watched Cassandra squeeze the book in her hand.

"The Empress is bound by honor to have Marjolaine arrested and put on trial for her crimes. The world would need to see her for her sins and crime" Lelieana said as she watched

"The Empress can go fuck her honor!" Cassandra shouted, making it very clear that she prepared to do whatever it took to get what she wanted.

"Do we have a deal Sister Lelieana? For your cooperation, I will give you what you want and in return you give me what I want. It's not the answer you were expecting but it is better than nothing" the options were weighed in bards mind while one question continued to repeat itself.

'Why?' Lelieana asked herself.

'He is a wanted criminal and hero. Many wish him dead while others demand his protection' Lelieana could feel Cassandra's patience growing thin.

'What will happen if I help this woman?' Lelieana asked herself, praying her judgment was sound on this matter.

"We have a deal Seeker. What would you like to know about the Warden?" Lelieana asked as she prepared herself.

However, Cassandra's first question had surprised the bard.

"Who is the Hero of Ferelden?" The question was simple enough but at the same time it would be difficult to answer.

"He is a great deal of many things Seeker. Would you mind being more specific?" Lelieana asked while she adjusted herself in the stony seat, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit in.

"No, I want to know everything. Who was the warden, who did he fight for, who did he believe in, what was his purpose" Cassandra's began to passé in front of the chair, she was either impatient or her feet were hurting her.

"You are asking a great deal of me Seeker. Even I most admit I don't know everything about the Warden" Leleiana was not trying to annoy the Seeker; she only wanted to speak the truth.

"I understand that but it was to my knowledge that you were there with him from the very beginning, long before he was a Warden or a hero. Just tell me what you know" Cassandra spoke with a noble's authority.

"Do you fear I may sing you a song of lies?" Lelieana would tell the truth of course but she had to be sure that Cassandra would be willing to accept the story.

Even the most fabled parts.

"I will decide the facts from lies sister" and that was enough for Lelieana to begin her story. The bard cleared her throat and placed her hands upon her lap.

"Then if you wish to know everything then I suggest you pull up a chair sister, because you are going to need to know the story… the whole story" a small smile appeared on the bards lovely thin lips.

"It began three years ago…

_Ferelden was plunged into chaos by the rumours of an approaching Blight. Many were terrified, and fear had spread like wildfire throughout the country, as whole Darkspawn hordes poured from the wilds. It didn't take long for Ferelden's king, the gallant King Cailan, to call his banners to war._

_The war began in the far south and it began on the 'Great Wall of Ostagar' and that is where our story begins. In the midst of blood and death, a common wizard appears with the dawn of a new day upon him, unaware of the great destiny that will soon befall him._


	2. The Gray Brothers

**Chapter 1: The Gray Brothers**

* * *

"So you think it's true, is this really a blight or just another raid?" An old man urged his horse faster to keep up with the wagon rolling beside him.

"Did you hear me you brat? Do you know or not?" The red-bearded man, guiding the wagon, glared at the old man and had to resist the urge to extend his boot and kick the old fool off his horse.

"You stop asking! I know not of what goes on in the south" his voice was thick with a foreign accent, his skin tan and black from years in the open sun, and the bells tied in his beard jingled with each bump his wagon crossed.

"Well why don't you? Aren't you a bounty hunter, don't bounty hunters bring deserters back to the war when they run away?" The old fool stood on his last straw with the foreign man.

"You are fools. I am not 'Bounty Hunter' I am De'vi. I recruit Wardens!" The foreign man's voice boomed like thunder and his bells jingled when he raised his voice.

"A Warden?" The old man's horse began to slow down as his mind began to reflect on what, or who, a 'Warden' could be. A moment of peace fell upon the wagon rider as he began to move farther and farther ahead, urging his horse faster, but the old man had returned his old sword beating against his horse's side as he rode.

"Do you mean a Grey Warden? Is that what this company is? Are all you Grey Wardens" the old man turned his head as his old faded eyes gazed upon the massive column of men, women, horses, and wagons.

"By Andraste's skirt this is a blight and you folks are here to save us" the old man smiled at the bounty hunter, his yellow teeth sending a disgusting chill down the foreigners back.

"Yes you oaf, now go away" a crack of the reigns and the horse began to walk faster, almost into a gallop, but the wagon hit a large rock and wagon shuck as if a volcano had erupted just below it. Chains rattled and began to sing in the steel cage as the wagon hit a second rock and began to jingle once more.

"Easy you slow mouth bastard, I don't feel like rolling down a hill and dying because of you!" The deep voice of a broad shoulder man forced the hunter to look over his shoulder and down at his prisoner. "Be silent!" The foreigner slammed his large burly fist against the iron bar to silence the man who spoke, but out of five people chained in his iron wagon he had no idea who had insulted him. Most men do not care what chained prisoners have to say.

On the outside men were free, they were free to judge, they were free stare, and free to lash at chained men with weapons and insults. It is a different world on the inside of a cage however, chained men had no freedom. Men in chains were guilty of all things, guilty men had to keep their eyes down or up to avoid the eye of another, and guilty men were not allowed to defend themselves when they are beaten. Life in a cage is no way for a man to live, unless he was guilty, but all six men were guilty of one crime of sorts.

"Damn sand bathing bastard" the broad shoulder man mumbled as his face twisted into a horrible glare but the hunter didn't even bother to give any of the men in his cage a second glance. That made the man angry, he loved it when people looked at him, the lack of a nose and an eye churned most men's stomach and made them sick. He loved that part, the look of disgust and fear are all he had left since being caught.

"Fucker" the one eye man mumbled as he felt something hard strike his leg.

"Would you shut up lack wit, you're the bloody reason why we're not being fed or watered!" A frail, skinny man, with a weak soothing voice yelled as he reached out to kick the larger man again.

"Don't touch me knife-ears and remember who you are talking to! This isn't your brothel, this is a cage, and as soon as I get out of this cage I am going to ring your skinny little neck" the frail man's ears redden in anger and his dark grey eyes were filled with the furry. The elf would have loved nothing more than to reach out with his hidden knife and jab it in the cell-mates one remaining eye but that's if he could reach his hidden dagger.

'_One quick slash and I'll be done with the ugly bastard'_ but the elf was not stupid enough to waste his energy on a pointless struggle and lose his only weapon.

"Just be silent and let us rest" the elf turned his gaze away from the one eye man and looked over his shoulder, through his black hair, and began to gaze down at the many men and women that were walking and riding beside the cage, behind the cage, and in front of the cage.

"Nine hells" the elf said aloud.

There were so many people; hundreds of sell-swords, hedge-knights, and men-at-arms each marching into battle. The sight made the elves heart fill with envy, never in his life did the elf see such a cluster of races gathered in one travelling caravan.

"They really are the Grey Warden's of legend" laughter burst out of the noseless man's mouth and nose, while the brothel elf began restrain himself once again and ignore his cellmates childish humor.

"You call these men legends, HA!" His voice boomed again spittle spreading from his mouth and snot from the hole in his nose.

"They are sell-swords like me, they came here for gold and silver and none of them are your fucking Grey Wardens!" Tension rose again as the sell-sword continued to chuckle and mock the elf, but before the brothel boy could do anything another man spoke up and raised his voice.

"I think we might need another cage mister hunter" a handsome young man, with black stubble raised his voice to catch the attention of the wagon rider.

"It would seem these two want some bloody privacy. Could you be a dear and separate us from them?" The handsome youth jabbed his left elbow into the sell-swords ribs, forcing a painful grunt from the gaps in the man's teeth. The elf had a wicked smile appear on his face and was about to laugh until he received an elbow to his ribs.

"Don't even think about it elf boy," the thick raspy voice of a woman spoke over the elf's grunt "if either of you say one thing I will drive my boot so far up your arse's that you two will be tasting nug dung for a year" the wraith and whip of the woman's voice frighten the likes of both elf and man so much that the wagon fell into a deaf silence. For a half a heart beat no one spoke but the dwarf knew that someone was about to talk.

Everyone in the wagon knew this woman was different from the others. The most obvious being she was a woman and not a man, but the men in the wagon noticed that she had no chains about her ankles or wrists; she was also wearing normal clothing instead of pieces of armor or rags. She was old, middle age, and had a large black tattoo engraved on her face.

It would seem many men feared her, even among her own kind, but stupidity was strong in the one-eye-man.

"Don't touch me bitch or I will strangle you too!" it was an empty threat. The dwarf woman ignored the one eye man and fixed her gaze on the younger man sitting beside him. The dwarf could see beyond deceit and tricks and knew that he was no ordinary man, just like the brothel boy.

"So how did they catch you?" The dwarf woman watched the young man eyebrows rise above in interest and joy but he suddenly gave the dwarf a puzzled look.

"With an iron grip and chains" his voice cracked with laughter as he jingled the chains on his wrists. Anger flashed across the woman's face but before she could rise to strike her cell mate the wagon hit a bump and the dwarf stumbled back and struck her head against the bars.

Laughter erupted within the cage as everyone watched the tattoo faced woman rub the back of her skull.

"Shut up you lot!" The jailor slammed his fist against the iron bars and gazed down at the woman.

"Are you injured?" The elf's concern for the woman was true and genuine but the dwarf shuck the elf off her arm and glared at all the men in the iron cage, smiles were wiped clean off each their faces.

"Sorry Missy I was just trying to lighten up the mood, but I was being serious. It was an iron grip that caught me" the young man explained as he rolled up his left sleeve, up to his faded leather couter, and revealed his bruised wrist.

"That most have been a nasty spill you took, boy" fluid dripped from the hole on his face as he smiled and chuckled at his cellmate's pain, but the whole face man paid no attention to his ugly companion.

"You see I was once a famous purse cutter in the capital. I was known in Denerim as Daveth Red Hands, because I never got caught red-handed" a wicked smiled appeared on his face while the dwarf rolled her eyes.

"But that all changed a month ago when I was prowling the Alienage, searching for prey to hunt" Daveth began to change his voice to add character to his story "That's when I found them. Five men, standing neatly in a row, waiting for me to relieve them of all their coins" the elf was suddenly leaning forward; he appeared to be on the edge of his seat.

"Who were you stealing from?" Daveth shot the elf a frustrated glance and said "I was getting there" and then the frustration washed away and Daveth continued his daring tale of thievery.

"I slowly crept up behind the man standing in the middle, he was old and seemed oblivious to my approach, and just when I was about to slice up his heavy brown purse he turned around and clipped me right in the jaw" a chuckle leapt out from the mouth of the jailer and from the gaps in one eye man's mouth, and then a snort followed after as the dwarf began to laugh as well, overjoyed at the thief's misfortunes.

Daveth waited for the laughter to vanish until he continued his story "The next I woke up in a cell and found myself standing face to face with the one and only Warden-Commander, Duncan of the Grey, and it was then that I knew I had one of two choices. I either be hung as a pickpocket or take the grey, and so here I am a future member of the Grey Wardens" Daveth leaned back against his iron bars and watched his story sink in.

"You were going to steal from the commander of the grey? You are either a fool or a very brave man" the elf was astonished and amazed by how brave, or foolish, Daveth was and began to believe that Daveth was just a fool.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black. I bet all my money that you are here for the same reason as me, aren't you" Daveth looked at the elf and smirked at the pointed ear man, but after a closer look Daveth began to believe the man was a boy. Daveth could never tell with the elves, they always looked young even when their hair turned grey.

"I bet you did something really bad or else you wouldn't have taken the grey. So what did you do?" The elf suddenly averted his gaze from Daveth and looked down at his feet, refusing to give anyone in the cage a second look.

"I would rather not say" no one heard his whisper.

"What?" Daveth asked.

"I would rather not say" the elf raised his voice so Daveth could hear him better.

"I bet he did something really bad, I bet he tickled a guard to death or he was caught prancing around in a meadow" the one eye man began to laugh at his humor while everyone else remained silent.

"No he did something worse than that. Did you steal something? Looked a noble in the eye? Or did you steal bread to feed your starving family?" Daveth had heard that story when he met a criminal. A handful of elves from the Alienage were dragged off every week for either stealing or for simply breathing. It was a common sight all across Thedas sadly.

"Fine don't tell but when you are willing to talk old uncle Daveth will be here to listen" it was another dull jest and silence fell upon the wagon once again, while conversation's of war, whores, and the glory went about on the outside.

"Is that it?" The dwarfs question had shocked Daveth. "What do you mean that's it?" The elf was surprised by the sudden question.

"I mean did you three actually choose life over justice?" The dwarf looked at the three men and began to study each of their faces.

"If you were caught red handed by the Warden Commander himself and were given a chance for redemption wouldn't you have taken it?" Annoyance appeared to be the only expression the dwarf woman had, as she took note of Daveth's empty smile and humor.

"No I wouldn't, I would have taken death over this, none of you are seeking redemption. You three have sought after an escape from death and I am willing to bet that is why you decided to take the grey" her gaze shifted on to the hideously scared man and the giant hole on his face.

Like a pouring oil onto a fire, furry light up in the gapped tooth man's eye "Don't act all high and mighty with me you little shit stain! I bet you took the deal too!" His face twisted and became even uglier as he yelled, more fluid dripping from his nose.

"I'm already dead, a member of the Legion is forced to give up their life for the greater good of dwarf kind and that's what I'm doing. I'm being forced to join the Grey Wardens to help save my race and end the reign of the darkspawn scourge" the dwarfs passion had surprised the thief, but not the bitter ugly man, as she turned her head and gazed out at men and women marching along the wagon.

"I wonder how many of them were given that option and were forced here" Daveth struggled to see beyond the massive hordes of men and women. He strained his eyes looking for other iron wagons and he found five each scattered.

"I wonder how many thieves, murders, and rapist are among this caravan." A great depression fell upon the four cell mates after the dwarf spoke.

"You lot are too depressing" Daveth said as he turned his gaze to the end of the cage and gazed at the knight riding upon a great horse. The knight looked disgusted and annoyed as his horse walked alongside common men. The knight was clearly new to this, marching alongside the lesser born, and that brought a smile to Daveth face.

"Pardon me sir knight do you by chance have any whine to share among the fellows?" Daveth shouted and at the mention of 'Ser' the knight's ears perked and looked right at the wagon. A disgusted look appeared in the knight's eye and with a light shake of his reigns the knight urged his horse forward and around the cage.

"Be silent scum. I would never give a criminal anything of my own, besides a quick death" the knights armor clinked and rattled as he galloped past the wagon.

"Well he's certainly cheery isn't he" Daveth said as he followed the knight with his eyes until he was gone from his sight. The thief then turned his head and looked back again but instead of looking outside of the cage he looked at the fifth body riding alongside the elf in the small iron cage.

"Beg your pardon friend but I don't suppose you've got any whine under your cloak perchance do you?" Daveth study the brown cloak and watched it stir and the gruff sound of a man clearing his throat.

"If I did I swear I would have shared it by now" by the tone of the voice the person in the brown cloak was young, clearly older than the elf, but the hood prevented anyone from seeing the man's face.

"Like many I'm sure you would have, after all we're all brothers and sisters now. Members of the grey" Daveth had always hated silence, it drove him mad when the people around him refused to talk, and that's why he was going to force a conversation out of the fifth member of the wagon.

"So where are you coming from friend? Are you from Haven, Molin, or perhaps the western hills?" The stranger pulled his cloak up closer to his face as a cold breeze came from the north.

"Wow, it's getting colder by the day. I don't suppose you ever been to the wall have you?" The question went unanswered like before and the iron cage remained silent.

"So what did you do to get thrown in here with us? Are you a member of the Legion as well? I don't see any chains on you so you must be here of your own free will" the elf looked at Daveth and kicked him in his boot.

"Be quiet already and leave the man be. We could all use some silence" the elf hugged his knee's to his chest and buried his face into them and began to hide himself from the world, but while the elf began to hide Daveth watched the cloaked stranger hold out his hands and show two heavy links wrapped around his wrists.

"I take that back you're just like us. So what did you do?" For a moment Daveth thought the stranger was going to answer his question when he turned his head, but the stranger remained silent as his head tilted back to look at something.

"Would you look at that" the stranger whispered as Daveth, the dwarf, the elf, and the wretched face sell-sword all followed the strangers gaze and looked upon the Great White Wall of Ostagar. "We have finally arrived" Daveth said as a twitch of ear ruptured in his voice.

The caravan had begun to move faster, than it ever did before, as it continued to follow the Imperial highway towards the wall. It did take very long for the caravan to mingle into the mighty host of the camp that had gathered at the foot of the wall. There were thousands upon thousands of people gathered at the wall; there were elves, dwarves, and men all working together for a common goal it would seem.

There was also a great deal of tents gathered into tiny or large groups, and each group had its own unique color and massive tent housed in its centre. Some of the tents were pitched along the hills of the valley, but the majority of the tents were clustered across the bottom of the wall and it stretched all the way back towards the forest and the Imperial Highway.

As the wagon rolled through the massive cluster of tents and people Daveth began to take note of each banner flapping in the wind. There were so many that the thief lost count at fifty and simply came to the conclusion that the bulk of Kings Army was on the wall.

"If I had not seen it with my own eyes I would have never believed it. The king has done it, he has summoned all his banner-men, and look at them all there has to be a hundred thousand men here!" Daveth began to sound like a child, as if a huge relief had been taken from his shoulders.

"Don't be a fool; if there were a hundred thousand men in this camp would have extended ten miles back and it would be six miles wide. I'm guessing there are only thirty, possibly forty, thousand troops here and by the looks of it only half the king's army has gathered" the one eye man said as he dragged his wrist across his hole.

"How do you bloody know?" The elf doubted the one eye man. How could an ignorant fool know what an army of one hundred thousand looks like.

"I'm a sell-sword from the Free Marches you knife-ear freak. I've fought in more wars and battles then you can count. How do you think I got these bloody scars?" His hands began to point out the many flaws on his face.

"But bugger that, I know that because only Gwaren banners are here. Look for you self. There is Bann Loren's Golden Trident" the banner was a dark green with a black trim, with a golden trident engraved in its center, with the ocean waves rising all around the golden fork and on the tip of three prong spear was a skewered fish.

"There is Bann Rodilfs Barbarian War Axe" a bloody red banner twisted as the wind blew, a double edge axe stood vertically on the red tapestry with black blood dripping from its edges and two great hands holding the axe by its hilt.

"And there is Arlessa Gladens Three Headed Bitch" the third banner was as white as fallen snow with a blue trim, and into its centre was a black three-headed Mabari hound, bearing its golden teeth.

"These are all Teyrn Loghain's banners. Men of the south!" the one eye man pointed his right hand above the dwarfs head and pointed out the final banner on their journey. The symbol, and heart, of Gwaren was a green dragon stitched on to a black tapestry with large yellow wings wrapped around its body, a thin red tongue was sticking out of its mouth, and with eyes as red as blood.

"Then the bulk of the army comes from the Teyrn Loghain. At least these rumors are true, men, dwarves, and elves all working together… it just warms your heart doesn't it" Daveth laughed as his cheeks became flushed.

"So is this it?" The dwarf woman had asked a question but the question was far too open to answer and none of the men knew what it meant.

"This is the war we must fight? These are the men and women we must die for?" The dwarf turned around in the cage and gazed onto the other side of the camp and looked at the soldiers preparing for war, but the dwarf looked past the humans the elves and looked for her own kind.

"Dwarves haven't fought for humans in nearly four hundred years. Why would King Endrin send all his forces south?" The common dwarf asked as she took a place back in her cage.

"You ask us as if we know. You are a dwarf you would know better than any of us" the city elf said as he looked at his dalish brothers and sisters.

"Although… I find myself curious as well. I'm no Dalish elf but I wonder what the gallant king had given to have brought so many elves to his side" the city elf marveled at the Dalish walking around the camp. Each looked beautiful and furious, while he looked like a wet pup trapped in the streets of the captial.

"I'm no noble boy. I'm a commoner just like you… I just have questions" the dwarf woman said as her legs began to bounce from her lack of patience.

"Well it looks like we are all about to get our answer" the one eye man said as he wagon drew closer to what appeared to be the end of their journey.

"Best prepare yourself boy, were all going to be dead soon enough" the one eye man said as he glared at the elf who offended him and then the one eye man shifted his eye over to the edge of the cage. The man sitting on the edge was still wrapped in his black cloak and his face remained hidden behind his hood.

"Wake the fuck up boy" the one eye man yelled, as snot flew from the hole in his skull.

"I'm awake… you talk too much" the mysterious man said as the travelling caravan began to split off into many different directions. Wardens were being shuffled to the north, towards the wall. Caravan followers east of the wall, towards a cliff. While four prison wagons were led west, towards the castle that sat on the cliff and the gallows that sat under it.

Dead men, rotted corpses, and living men hung from cages, ropes, and chains below the white castle. It was a sight to behold and a reminder of what happens to deserters of the army, rapist in the camp, and murders on the field.

The fingers of death ran along the spines of each and every prisoner who rode in the wagons. The four wagons were pulled and hauled across grass and melting snow until they stopped before the gallows and one by one each cage had been emptied. The prisoners were placed before the wooden gallows and forced to stand in place with there iron chains chaffing at their wrists and ankles.

"Well it was a pleasure knowing you lot… except for you. You never talked during our adventure" Daveth chuckled as he looked to his left and at the hooded man that stood beside him.

"Let's keep it that way" the man whispered as Daveth watched the man tip his head forward to hide his nose, chip, and lips.

"Just who in the nine hells are you-" Daveth was suddenly cut off by the loud booming voice of a dwarf wearing armour as black as the darkness, with a white griffin painted on his chest.

"Listen up you bloody maggots! You lot are here to answer for the crimes against your people, your families, and your crown" the dwarf spoke with the authority of a general and with the power of a man who had nothing to loose.

"You were each given a choice of either death or taking the gray and we can guess what you all choose" the dwarfs lips pulled back into a yellow smile and was followed by a small chuckle.

"I'm here to tell you all that you made the wrong choice. This is not an escape!" The dwarf's ugly smile vanished in half a heartbeat as he began to look down the row of condemned men and women.

"Once you join the Wardens, it's for life! Once you take the oath you are forever bound to our cause and no matter how hard you try" the dwarf was about to yell a few more words but a hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder and the veteran warrior lost his voice.

"There is no going back" the commander of the Gray said as he stepped closer to the edge of the gallows and looked down at his new recruits.

"Only in death can you be free. Prepare yourself," the commander spoke with the wisdom of a man his age but with the respect of a man half his age "as of today your **Joining **begins" Duncan said as he looked down at the hooded man and for a moment the hooded man raised his eyes and met Duncan's.

"Welcome to the Gray Wardens"


End file.
